


Aníra (To Desire)

by crosstones



Category: Men's Hockey RPF, The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anachronistic, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Elves, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, NHL RPF, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, The Lord of the Rings References, weird interaction between non-hockey au hockey players and LOTR characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crosstones/pseuds/crosstones
Summary: Carter is a rare kind of elf, given his common name by the man who once rescued him. After spending years on the run, supported by a council of noble Elves and leagues of Wizards alike in Middle-Earth working to secure his protection he makes settlement at Rivendell. Following the death of his long-time ward, Heidrek, and a recovery from mortal wounds, Carter's time in Rivendell must end. Lord Elrond provides him with a new protection, a new ward, but the protection of Men, lead by a young leader and Prince at first makes Carter question his safety, and eventual purity as he struggles to keep his deeply traditional Elf values in the midst of rough men of Rohan.
Relationships: Carter Hart/Nolan Patrick
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1: A Farewell

**Author's Note:**

>   
> Notes:  
> During writing this I realised how ppl don’t like Carter and I agree he is a complete dick, but it was too late. I was going to change it to TK and Nols but it’s too late. This version of Carter or Nols is nothing like the real ones in anyway apart from slight appearance. 
> 
> Also this shit is not accurate to the book or films at all and I have no idea what i’m talking about basically warning 
> 
> (Some of these translations may not be correct)
> 
> Ivae’ess - Light-bringer  
> Adan - Men  
> Simbelmynë - Flower of Rohirrim (There aren't many instances of the language of Rohan but it's cute so I'm pushing its limits).  
> Círamdir - Renewed Hope, (Sindarian, there weren't any good ones in Quenya).  
> The veil - Elven telepathy reference
> 
> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee

The halls of Rivendell had provided a haven for Carter for the past moons whilst he sheltered from his journey. The ordeal of his ward Heidrek, being felled by a new breed of terrifying orcs on their tail left a toll on his mind and body as he eyed his quickly healing, but once mortal wounds.

He had felt most at home in the halls, feeling the comfort of soft linen on his skin and eating the light foods of his distant elf-kin. Lord Elrond had assured him he was welcome for as long as he needed to recover on his constant journey to escape the evils hunting him. As the new summer breeze touched his face, the Elf was met with the Lord of the realm at his side, “Ivae’ess, I fear your time here may need to end. The scouts of Adan have been seen at our borders.” Carter shuffled where he stood, “I have enjoyed my time here very much, my Lord.” Turning to face the Lord of Rivendell, he studied the face of the monarch, he looked concerned, weary.

Lord Elrond suspected Carter’s concerns, “I see you know I grow fearful of your safety, I am bearing the sacred duty of protecting you. But, even behind the walls of Elven defence, they will continue to come nearer to this realm Ivae’ess, I fear if you were to travel with Elven accompaniments there would be an attack, the Adan of the wilds have been known to outnumber Elven patrols, they can be persistent.”

Carter adjusted the small braid which ran above his ear in thought. The hair was rough under his fingers from being cut quickly in his escape to Rivendell. Grimacing at Elrond's concerns, Carter was astounded that even the Elves of Rivendell, his kin, could be outnumbered by men and orcs who hunted him. Such impure beings sent to claim him as a trophy. He did not want to picture that existence. 

“What shall become of me, my Lord?” Elrond consoled him, “I have found a solution to the increasing danger to both my people and you. You may not enjoy the solution however, Ivae’ess, but, believe in my word.” Carter understood, he took Lord Elrond’s action and word as both a friend and a guardian. “Thank you, my Lord, for all you have given me.” The Half-Elven Lord smiled kindly in response.

The last few days of Carters time in Rivendell, he mostly spent in mediation, soaking in the comforts of Elf-kind; rich oils, soaps, foods, and soft clothes. Carter sunk the feeling of comfort into his mind, realising what further discomfort and hardship could come. The eve before his departure, the moon shone brightly through the balcony of his quarters in the halls. Following his final bath in the most comforting fragrances, he felt the thin layers of the robe he bore start to itch against his skin; his deep spiritual connection to the light of the moon, Ithil, flowed through him.

The open doors of the balcony eased the moonlight of last few fair days of Autumn into the room. His kind was a deeply spiritual, and magical people, the draw from the moon presented him with solace. Closing his eyes he felt the robe slip away from his body and felt himself stepping out onto the cold stone of the balcony. The moonlight enhanced the paleness of the Elf’s skin as all shame and rules of modesty slipped away from him.  
  
To the people of Rivendell, his indecency would be unsightly; Carter kept to the strict rules of celibacy, indecency felt unnatural to him; the Elf considers his body as sacred.

At any other occasion, he would be disgusted in his actions, but the thought of his last night at the halls of Rivendell simply made his draw to the moon even stronger, he felt unlike himself, the spirit of his kin fuelling him. Carter allowed himself to become engrossed in the feeling of the moonlight on his now mostly healed skin, reminding him of the wounds he suffered from his escape from hunters.  
  
Remembering his lost ward and friend, he spoke in his once forgotten mother-tongue to the sky, “Ithil, mother, guide me in my journey. Heidrek, accept my thanks for saving my legacy. Rest, friend.”

Arising with the sun, Carter broke his fast silently, having his last meal of Elven-kind. A knock on the door interrupted his slow thoughts. Standing to meet the figure of Lord Elrond, having felt the presence of such a powerful being.

“I must bid you farewell, Ivae’ess, may Eru guide you through your journey to find your people or solace in this land.” Carter bowed deeply in his presence. “Thank you, my lord, I will my wards to protect me. Please, wish them safety in my presence.” The Lord nodded in recognition. “I must tell you of your ward to be, however, may you doubt them, never underestimate the stamina and strength of their spirit, especially the fire of the leader. Guide them, Ivae’ess.” 

Carter rose, “Thank you, my lord, I will give them my blessing, no matter who they may be.” The Lord smiled, still weary, Carter recognised. “I must leave you now to prepare for the welcoming,” Elrond spoke before excusing himself, Carter nodded in respect of the Lord. Taking a breath, the Elf spent a moment to focus his mind, smoothing his robe. Preparing for a new journey at hand.  


* * *

  
As the high council of Rivendell elves met on the bridge of the halls, Carter stood nervous, the beginnings of a new journey settled uncomfortably in his bones.

Against the stillness of the valley, the sudden call of hooves beating against the ground hit the calm air. As Carter winced through the sun, the silhouette of what bore the thundering sound appeared, horsemen. As the quiet chatter from the Elves of the greeting party quickly subsided, twenty or so figures, Carter counted, had spears at hand with some bearing banners. Carter cocked his head slightly in confusion upon seeing the horsemen.

They held the horse-bearing banners of Rohan… riders of Rohirrim would be his ward.  
The riders surrounded the Elves, helms adorned with horsehair and figures of their people's livelihoods bore down on Carter. Carter's eyes wandered through the flashes of the faces of men, searching for an older man, a leader. Many men in the group appeared older to Carter, he let his eyes settle on a particularly grizzled man, and suddenly he felt comforted at the thought of a well-battled warrior protecting him.

Although overwhelmed by the flurry of hooves Carter stepped back, turning his head to meet a figure on horseback breaching the group. The figure stepped easily off his mount, and removed the recognisable decorated helm of the Rohirrim. Carter eased his eyes up the armoured figure of Rohan, he had been promised the leader held a strong fire for the spirit of man.

The man stood much larger than Carter, broad shoulders enhanced by the strong, bronzed metal of the arms of Rohan. Built for battle and horseback, he exuded a familiar strength of man. The man's face, however, was not what the Elf expected.

Carter studied the riders face, younger than he thought, a man in his prime, not far older than twenty moons for man. The brown, slightly curled shoulder-length locks of the man revealed slight fair streaks in the morning sun of Rivendell, and a slight shadow of a beard graced his jaw, Carter had forgotten the look of a bearded man after spending so long with his kin. He was ashamed to admit the young rider was handsome, the men of Rohan were renowned for their handsomeness as Elves for their beauty.

Carter quietly shrugged off his assessment of the man, remembering the strict rules of attraction of his kind, he bowed to him. The Rohirrim looked him over, harshly and paused, “It is not often my people are to be decreased to be the hired bodyguards of Elf-kind.” he snarled slightly, placing the end of his spear roughly on the ground.

Carter sunk back at the surprise of the man's deep and rough voice as the continuing thud of horses hooves shook the ground, breaking the silence of the valley. Of course, a man such as the one that stood in front of him would not understand the significance of Carter's presence. Once Carter rose to meet the man, he allowed his eyes to lock with those of the rider, wild blues and greys stared back, fiercely keen and strong-willed. The markings of a young King, Carter noted.

The man's eyes felt unusual for most leaders of man he had seen, the eyes of men were often battle-worn and grizzled, this rider had a fierce spark in them. The man appeared to be studying the Elf as much as the Elf was him, the rider’s eyes travelled to Lord Elrond beside Carter, as he spoke;

“But I stand with the Lord Elrond, he has been kind to my people,” he slowly knelt in front of Carter, the riders shadowing above hesitated before bowing their heads from their horses, following his action.

Glancing up to the Elf, the man softened his tone, standing to meet Carter once more the man introduced himself, “I am Nólan, son of Theóran, Prince of Rohan, and leader of the riders of Rohirrim. We have separated our differences, ride with us, we will secure your protection whilst you are in our company.” Although Carter was surprised by his new ward he was raised to respect most creatures of Middle-Earth and put aside the dislike of man-kind. Standing tall he spoke; “I accept your offer Nólan, and I greet your riders. I will join you and your riders and offer my aid for your promise of protection and preservation of my kind.”

The men bowed in respect. The leader once again bowed, lifting his light eyes, with slight concern he asked quietly, “I have been notified of your wounds, you shall ride with me until you are strong once more.” He spoke sternly, Carter began to object but the stare of Lord Elrond prevented his outburst.

Through the veil the Lord spoke, “Do not test him young Ivae’ess, you have heard my words, however, you must trust the men of Rohan.” The rare fire of disagreement within Carter quickly subsided as he realised his misdemeanour and bowed slightly to Elrond, “Forgive me for my passion, farewell and thank you, my Lord.” Elrond nodded in acceptance of Carter's apology, and respectfully bowed to the Elf. Carter turned to his new ward and his riders; Nólan led his horse forward, raising an eyebrow whilst questioning “Would you require assistance to mount the horse?” with a slight mocking tone. Carter smiled daringly. 

The only man he had not treated as his Elf kin would treat men had been Heidrek. The temptation of talking back to the prince flickered at the back of his mind. The air of danger from the man however disagreed.

“No, I am well” he spoke. As Carter mounted the horse, he swiftly hid a slight wince of phantom pain. Nólan turned to Elrond. “My blade has tasted the blood of your kind many times, however, I will protect him. My steel is his guardian, I will spill my blood at his feet if it means he is safe and if it were to honour the council's word. Hear my word, Lord Elrond of Rivendell.”

Lord Elrond nodded in acceptance. The prince called to his riders, “Rohirrim!” His deep voice pierced through the scuffle of horses as he mounted the dark steed Carter balanced on. Carter winced slightly at the almost primal tone of the man, he had become so accustomed to the light voices of the Rivendell Elves that the man's call made his eyes widen. A sense of danger emanated from the man.

The horses quickly pulled at their reigns, rearing to run. Soon enough, Carer was sinking into the feeling of being mounted behind the Prince of Rohan as they rode swiftly from the golden halls of Rivendell.

“Then. It will be.” Carter murmured to himself, closing his eyes and feeling the wind against his skin.  
  


* * *

  
Days of riding quickly fell behind them, so did that of the coldness in the Prince's interactions with the Elf. He quickly began glancing back at Carter as they spoke, sharing language and culture. The wind whipped through the barren rocky lands outside of Rivendell, as the riders of Rohan were swift, easily travelling at speed. Carter noted Nólan’s deep sense of calm, the man had grown out of his dangerous first impression. Carter could sense the man was at home whilst riding. The Elf felt a sense of longing to have such a comfort in life.

“Your name is quite familiar to the tongue of men is it not?” The man's voice questioned through the noise of hooves. Carter sighed, he would have to explain all that had brought him great pain in this life to this rider of Rohan, only then he would truly understand the importance of his safety. “It is of men.” Carter said carefully, “I was given it by the man that found me after my people were slaughtered.”

The man let out a low hum of consideration, “I accept that is a pain beyond understanding. What is your Elven name?” Carter met the glance of the rider, a sorrowful but keen look in his eye. “My name in my mother-tongue is Círamdir” Carter cherished the comfort of his language on his tongue, as he felt it may be the last time he would speak it. The Prince smiled kindly, a first for the leader of the Rohirrim, before repeating Carter’s name… “Círamdir”.

The riders low tone seemed to wash over Carter's skin as he tested the name on his tongue. The man's action made something within Carter deeply satisfied that his name could be spoken properly by a man. Shaking his head, Carter shrugged off the strange feeling, a flash of the thought that the deep shiver was of unknown sin quickly frightened Carter, he quickly reset his mind, breathing in deeply.

Carter was abruptly driven from his self-scoldings by the chuckle of the Prince in his low tone. A smirk was clear on his face as he turned to the men beside him on horseback, followed by the sarcastic shout of “But aren’t we glad, men! He goes by the name of Carter! A common folk’s name!” The riders bellowed in laughter, cheers, and heckles — mostly directed at the Prince. Carter questioned that the princes first cruel demeanour had not been a front.

Nólan turned to Carter, recognising his offended appearance, “Forgive me Simbelmynë, I am prone to the jokes and taunting of men at arms. I truly mean no offence to you or any Elf-kind.” Carter nodded in acceptance, the coldness had given way to the mannerisms of a young man.

However, the Elf did not look past the cat-like grin on the leader's lips.

Carter knew his beginnings with the men of Rohan would be different from his beloved and calm journeys with Heidrek. The boldness and charm of the young leader provided a sense of leering comfort to the Elf, a young man of prime, similar to Carter but hundreds of years younger. He was battle-hardened however he showed the joys of recently broken youth.

Carter smiled to himself as he eyed the broad shoulders of the Prince. He would take joy in furthering his learnings in the differences between Elf and man with this new ward. He and his men were different from the civility of Heidrek. Through the boisterous jeering and often promiscuous chatter of the riders Carter felt the heat of new experiences beyond the familiar but comforting lives of Elves begin to fill his mind.

And the Prince of Rohan, whom he had seen stone-faced and cold had opened up to the Elf. Carter watched as he grinned and cheered on his men whilst they rode through the barren land. This prince would be like no other.

  



	2. Chapter 2: Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Riders of Rohan stop to rest  
> 

  


Carter had only become settled deeply into the rhythm of riding after many days, as soon as the riders stopped at the signs of the setting of a distant red sun and dark clouds in the distance. As he dismounted the captain's horse, his legs shook lightly. Taking a deep breath. He laughed quietly to himself at how unaccustomed he had become to life on the road since he had been spoiled in the halls of Rivendell. 

As Carter lifted his eyes from the ground, he met the eyes of Nólan. The captain raised an eyebrow at him as he adjusted the reigns, Carter lingered longer than he had before on the man's face, noticing how his features mixed strong angular lines of his jaw and nose against the blush of cheeks. Carter smiled lightly at the Prince, as he pulled once more at the reigns before lifting the saddle off of the horse. Nólan questioned; “ I know the pain of journeying whilst stricken in battle, but I cannot imagine being pierced by the blade I am told pierced you. How are your wounds?”. 

Carter passed his hand over his side, where once the twisted blade of an infamous Orcish Elf-cleaver had pierced him repeatedly. Carter thanked his ability to survive such wounds as an Elf of his stature. The wounds had retreated to thin red lines. However, phantom pain often rocked his entire body and greatly diminished his spirit.

“Their fierceness was calmed during the ride, but I fear the pain may return. Thank you for your consideration, I can assure you I will heal,” Carter said softly. Nólan nodded in approval as he beckoned Carter to follow him to where the group began to construct shelters out of hides and thick canvas, deep red in colour.

Carter turned to glance at the riders staying to care for the horses, the Elf greatly admired the ease and dedication the men had for creatures of the land against the uniform tents that stood silhouetted against the quickly setting sun. Nólan had disappeared, explaining his want to rest in a gruff mumble. Taking refuge at a newly lit fire, Carter bowed politely to the men gathered around the flame. 

Soon enough, the men began an onslaught of questions for the Elf. Carter took interest in particular at the questions of a slightly smaller rider with an intense demeanour. The man grinned as he asked; “Can your skin shine silver as they say in the stories of Elves?” Carter laughed lightly at the man's intensity, “No, my friend, I would be afraid I could be under some spell if I were to glow like the jewels of kings." The man looked defeated by the truth, turning to drink deeply from his mug of ale.

Carter continued to enjoy the questioning of the men, even when it turned to questions of his purity and celibacy as an Elf, “I say we take him back to Rohan! Let him delight in the large breast of Rohan’s lasses! That will do his self-torture good! How could you deny yourself -" A thickly bearded man roared in ramble, as he was soon cut off by fits of laughter. Carter blushed fiercely, running his fingers through his short hair, the men had had too much ale he decided, nothing more. 

* * *

Excusing himself from the raucous men, he made his way through the tents until candlelight guided him to that of his wards. Admittedly nervous to disturb the leader's rest, Carter was desperate to rest in the comfort of the tents over spending a night sleeping on the ground by the fire. The Elf could not knock, and he felt further nervous to enter unannounced.

The tent glowed a soft red-orange hue by the light of a candle, casting light shadows across the walls of the shelter as he entered. What made Carter freeze in his step was the sight in the middle of the tent. The Prince, staring up from darkened eyes at the Elf, unbuckling the last of his traditional heavy armour, the expanse of his chest exposed down to the low line of his leather trousers. 

Carter's eyes transfixed to two great antlers, marking either side of the man's hips, leading down the waistline of his trousers and coiling up around the mans muscled stomach. Carter wondered what great story would explain the inked skin, another time, the Elf thought. The rest of the rider appeared greatly different than Carter’s experience of most men; Heidrek had been lean, similar to Carter with few lines of muscle gracing him.

The Prince of Rohan was vastly different, broad all over, lines of muscle wrapping over his stomach and up to his chest to his arms. Carter became distracted in the trail of light brown hair travelling down the man's stomach to the waist of his trousers. The man stared back at Carter in consideration, a slight curl on his lips as he questioned; “Do you have a need, Elf?” he said lowly as he hung up the last of his armour on the ragged branches of the wooden tent support. 

The muscles in his arm shifted and further lines of his body became revealed to Carter's shocked eyes. Carter quickly cleared his throat, forcing the task at hand. “I- Where shall I be staying tonight?” Nólan chuckled as he turned to Carter, “I’m sorry I could not give you the comfort Lord Elrond may have provided, but I can give you the comfort of this tent if you do not mind sharing.” 

* * *

  
Carter had never shared a tent with any being before, let alone a mostly naked man - and a man of Rohan at that. Heidrek had been greatly respectful of Carter's deep conservatism, skin such as the display of which the Prince was comfortably showing was unseen on their journeys. 

Although the Elf could not believe the sights and sounds he had seen on this journey so far, his legs grew weary and the thick rain poured outside, the distant yells and jeers of the riders caught in the rain echoed through the gaps in the tent. 

“Yes,” Carter paused in consideration “Yes, yes, any place to rest I would accept gratefully.” The Prince gestured at a rolled bedroll opposite his, “Please, rest.” Carter reached to unfold the furs, sinking into them. The captain murmured to himself before questioning;

“You will not disrobe? Your riding clothes surely must be spoiled with mud?” 

Carter glanced lightly at the Prince, his mind still foggy at the unexpected appearance of the man.

“I cannot. Showing my body to any beyond myself and Lady Ithil, the moon, before I am betrothed is deeply against my kind.” 

Carter expected a reply of disgust or mocking from the Prince, however, the man just laughed softly; “Well, I feel I am underdressed then.” he gestured to his exposed skin. 

The Elf just laughed with the man, mind buzzing with strange distant energies. Sinking onto the fur bedroll, desperately dampening the buzz of what he had seen that night, that reverberated over in his mind. The view of the Prince facing away from him, the candlelight enhancing the deep lines of the riders back left for a lasting image. 

The dim light of the candle was quickly extinguished as a jingle of a belt graced Carter's sensitive ears before the weight of the Prince shifted to the bedroll opposite the tent. 

As if the man sensed Carter's unrest, he spoke, the gravel of tiredness flowing through his tone through the dark; “We ride at dawn, rest your body, you will need it.” Carter hummed agreement in blissful weariness, forgetting his manners. Closing his eyes, the tinge of the pains of his wound made his skin crawl slightly, he ignored them, comforted by the furs of the men of Rohirrim.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee


	3. Chapter 3: Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full reason of the journey is revealed, three relics of Elven kind. Carter learns of the true desires of men, and learns of the complex manner of his ward.
> 
> Alternatively, Carter gets dirty talked and is confused and then is further confused.  
> 

  


In the moons before the beginning of the journey and days after Carter’s arrival at Rivendell, the decision of the Elf’s new ward was made by the council brought to protect him. The Elf lay in a state of sleep, healing from his deep wounds. Tensions had risen, and arguments ensued. Nólan had stood, silencing the room. 

Having been sent to Rivendell to represent his people, he pushed aside all the hatred of Elves which had been instilled in him as he had done moons before. The bigger picture was clear to him, he could not imagine the pain of losing his kin, his culture, his people such as the Elf had. The man's remorse reared its head, even for an Elf. 

Gandalf had warned the prince; ensuring, “Understand young horse lord, that this quest does not have an end until the Elf is safe in the trees of Lorien and the relics of his people have been acquired.” The wizard presented three rolls of ancient parchment, on each parchment lay diagrams etched in dark green ink. A bow, a necklace, and a ring. Lord Elrond broke his silence, standing to lean over the parchments. “The swift Idhren, forged from the ashes of great blades before.” he passed his hand over the second diagram, as he spoke.

“The necklace of fair Pelilasssil, granting the wielder great Elven healing” The lord’s breath shook slightly as he reached the third diagram. “Imlad, a ring of great power, giving great beauty and influence over others. Only to be wielded by an Elf of a bloodline such as our ward, he alone can only be deemed worthy by the ring itself, and could wield this ring without corrupting the hearts and minds of men and elves alike.” The Lord of Rivendell turned to the man. 

“Captain of Rohan, do you fear such magic? Would you take the risk of facing such an Elf bathed in the beauty of these relics? In your heart, I can feel you are different from other men, a distant connection to these relics, perhaps. Do you feel the call of them?” the Lord spoke to Nólan. The prince nodded in agreement, the relics stirred something deep inside him which had laid unknown.

“I do feel them, I do not know where it comes from but I feel it is my duty to secure their legacy.” The man knew the only thing to settle the council would be a volunteer, that of a rider of Rohan was not taken lightly, however, the word of Elrond was taken as law. Wizards whispered in hush tones that a man would not last a month without trying to force the Elf against his will, in any matter of the word to take the relics, and harness their powers for evil. Nólan sat unimpressed by this. 

He knew how Elves could be, mystical beings, however, he did not desire the magic of Elves. ‘Highly-strung, fussy things,’ the man thought. “Enough.” he spoke sternly against the chatter, “Council of Amdir, have I not given my word as Prince of Rohan, that I will protect what my people had once called enemy? I do this not for the Elf, but for the preservation of life, and culture, these relics will reach their rightful owner. I have seen yet too many men die without carrying their legacy, as even an Elf deserves what once was lost.” turning to the elves of Rivendell, Mirkwood, and Lórien. 

“You must know, this does not mean I do not still harbour dislike of your kind. I do this for Middle-Earth, not just the Elves alone.” He turned to exit the room, pausing, “Send word when you are of need.” The prince of Rohan said slowly. Lord Elrond took his seat at the departure of the determined Rohirrim, “Then, it shall be” he addressed the remaining council members who sat in silence.

* * *

The riders had quickly cleared the campsite they had laid rest at, with two men acting as scouts returning from their early morning rides with blessings of good weather and no dangers. 

Journeying for a village in the shadow of the misty mountains to stock up on supplies, Carter took turns riding on his own and with the prince. The rider remained weary of the Elf’s wounds. Dusk came swift as the riders made their way through the outskirts of the village, surrounded by barren hills. 

The riders split up to attend to their own needs, and Nólan offered his men’s protection of the village for the night to the elders, in exchange for shelter and food. Carter had grown fond of a few of the companies men, a young man who barely looked of age to ride, who smiled merrily and made a jester of himself at times and a wise older Rohirrim who spoke to the elf of all the manners of horses. 

At these times, Carter did not miss the halls of Rivendell, although the cleanliness of the village and previous campsites did not incite comfort in the Elf, the sheer simplicity of the joys of the men of the Rohirrim company made Carter forget about his hunters.  
Night had fallen, the men crowded their way into the tavern. Pints of ale flurries around the table of the company as the riders enjoyed themselves. The rattle of the tavern door let itself be heard amongst the chatter. The prince stepped in, he had taken much time caring to his horse. Carter admired this greatly. The prince eyed his men before speaking.

“What is the occasion? Are we celebrating a task completed at the very beginning of it?” Nólan questioned, striding over to the table and pulling at the collar of a young riders linen shirt. He stared up coldly at the other men, his stare continued as he eyed Carter, quickly letting go of the young rider, he spoke; “I will join tonight's patrol”. 

The prince took his leave, the riders seemed unfazed. The tavern grew merrier once again, as the night grew darker. Carter wondered of Nólan’s safety, he had not yet seen the man in battle, and although he did not doubt he could handle himself, a pack of orcs could overcome any man. 

Carter enjoyed the festive mood of the men, the same man with great excitement and dark hair from the campsite told the Elf of the occasion, a day of hope in the Rohan calendar. He delved in conversation with the young rider, he was an interesting young man at that. “Would you say the Elves dislike to explore the wonders of Middle-Earth?” Carter gladly explained that Elves often kept to themselves, the great havens provided everything an Elf needed, except the great Valinor. The man soon cut him off, questioning rapidly “I have never thought of what an Elven wedding would involve?” Carter raised an eyebrow at the Rohirrim, “Would you care to explain, Elf?” the man asked. 

Carter agreed, explaining what he knew of most traditional Elven wedding and courtship. “… And on the night of the binding of the two Elves… I think you understand what I may say next.” The Elf paused. “I cannot believe the intricacies of your people,” the man said strongly, clearly astonished. 

The young man quickly switched to a hushed tone, questioning, “Do Elven men lay with other Elven men? Or men of Middle-Earth?” he spoke with great determination. The Rohirrim looked down at his hands on the table before glancing back up to the Elf. “I, I must admit I find you very alluring, I do not know if your culture treats men such as me the same.” Carter blinked slowly in shock, “I am not sure I know of what you speak?”.

The man shook his head, “Must I say it to you in a way which I truly wish to tell?” Carter cocked his head slightly at the man. The man’s face turned serious, his eyes turned dark.

The man grew into a feral smile before he said lowly, “I wish to savour you Elf, strip those robes and see what pale beauty lies beneath. Then, I want to have you ride me as you do a steed, I see the way you bounce easily on the saddle.” the man lowered his eyes to Carter’s lips as the Elf simply sat there astonished. 

“I want to hear your soft, pretty whimpers under me as I defile you, so, so slowly.” the man whispered over the hum of the tavern, eyes wild.

“I see how you look at the captain. He will bring you nothing, I am sure does not know how to lay with a man or an Elf as I do.” 

As the man opened his mouth to speak his sinful monologue once more, he was cut off by a great ‘bang!’ as the tavern door was thrust open, handle hitting the opposing wall. 

The prince stormed in, drenched in rainwater and blood, fierce eyes searching the room. 

The vicious head of an Orc swung from his hand, dripping blood onto the tavern floor. Approaching the men of Rohan gathered around the biggest table in the tavern the man questioned fiercely; 

“I had allowed you, Rohirrim, to ask what you require in ale and food from the tavern. And yet? Do you forget to provide security for these people? I was not expected to be the only one on watch tonight.”

The orc’s head dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, dark blood seeping out around the leader's feet. “Multiple villagers, nearly killed because of the draw of ale. I understand, men, it has been long since the comforts of Edoras graced us, but do not dismiss your duty as Riders of Rohan.” the captain said roughly. 

Carter had grown ashamed that the Prince’s instances of sternness made him red in the face, the words from the lovesick rider had not helped him either. A rider who had downed too much ale moved to walk past the captain, Carter remembered this rider, he was supposed to be a watchman for the evening. He had not listened to the leaders questioning. 

The captain quickly grabbed the drunken companion, forcing him to his knees, “Clean this floor, best I make you clean it with your tongue.” he said with a furiously calm voice. Carter met the prince’s eyes, understanding the man wanted to meet with him in private, he soon followed him as he left the room, moving upstairs to above the tavern.

Carter met the man as he had stripped off his filthy clothes, it was the first time Carter had seen the prince in the normal clothes of men. He was still graced with the broadness and fairness of the man.

“I am sorry for my outburst, it is my dedication to this cause. I can promise you I am light on my men compared to others of my family.” The prince said from the side of the bed he sat on, he sounded tired. Carter stepped forward to address him. 

“It means more to me than you realise, I can know you do have passion in this quest, you are no liar, Prince Nólan of Rohan.” the man looked up at him from weary eyes, still clear blue washed in dark greys. “I fear, I am becoming too passionate. Too dedicated to yourself rather than the cause.” the man sighed “ I cannot keep my eyes from you.” Carter smiled at the man, as he sensed this was no danger. 

“I know when a man is driven wild by an Elven maiden, an Elven man, however? This is different. You are not losing your mind, as the council may have warned you, I know when I see it. This, this is the spirit within you, the fire.” The man quickly stood to face the Elf “Then why do I think of your presence in every waking moment?” he said passionately.

“Maybe it is more than the dedication of a man set on a quest. That, we shall find out with time.” Carter stared deeply at the man, “I see deep through you, your heritage, you come from a line of Rohan like no other.” the man smiled at Carter, moving swiftly over to the Elf, he took Carter’s hands in his.

Looking down slightly at the Elf he promised, “They cannot take you for your beauty, you are more than that. I will not let them.” 

“So you do understand that the evils of the world do not want me just for what beauty I may have,” Carter addressed the prince, slowly guiding his hands from the rough rider’s. 

“They want me for my attributes, my skill in healing and resurrection. My abilities in battle.” Carter let himself wander into the explanation. The man had returned to the nearby bed, pulling a blade from his sodden gear laid on the table nearby. “You must understand they will face any foe to enslave me.” Carter turned towards him. 

The soft scrape of a stone running over blade stopped for a moment as Nólan glanced up from the stone, he slowly began sliding it against the blade once more. “Well then, I would like to see them try to take you.” A grin grew upon the man’s face. “Let me see that blade,” Carter asked. The prince stood, Carter soon felt encased by the rider's frame once more. 

Lifting the pommel of the sword to his lips the rider softly kissed the steel, passing the handle to the Elf. A keen look in his eye he promised, “I know I am but a man wielding a blade of the simple steel of men. But you must know the council would have not asked for my blessing if they did not believe me when I first volunteered for this task.” He spoke softly. 

Carter glanced up at the man's cool eyes, he felt a raw emotion from he had not seen in Elves. The determination of the Rohirrim was inspiring.

* * *

Their discussions continued through the night, Carter sitting calmly in a chair by the window, Nólan sharpening his blades and drying his sodden clothes by the small fireplace. 

“I hope my men sleep still and soundly, their drunkenness will not aid them in riding tomorrow, we face the rough terrain of the misty mountains.” Carter smiled at the memory of the merriness of the group. 

However a frown quickly grew on his lips, the prince quickly picked it up. “What troubles you Elf?” the prince questioned, Carter breathed a quick and forceful breath. “But your men, they have also been-“ Carter paused, “Behaving unseen in their speech” He glanced down. 

“They talk of me as if I am a trophy to be claimed. Asking me if I can show them what lies beneath my robes. It makes me feel exposed, I fear I blush too much like a maiden.” Nólan turned from where he sat at the bedside, a sudden wave of thick rage filling Carter’s senses through the man. 

The floor shook as the prince pierced the tip of the freshly sharpened sword through the ancient floorboards of the tavern.

“I will not tolerate any talk of you in this manner.” He spoke viciously, standing to walk to the middle of the room, “They may as well join the forces against us.” The man outstretched his arms in fury before staring deep into Carter's eyes. “Hear me Elf, when I say, I will happily let you watch as I cut the own traitorous heads from my men.” The voice of the rider growled through the room.

“I have heard what they speak of before.” Nólan hissed. Carter had before felt the fire in this man that he had been told of. The words felt mixed with another emotion, Could the prince be jealous of his men’s words? Carter quickly thought. However mixed the Rohirrim’s emotions were, Carter felt no doubt in seeing the dedication of a passionate man.

“Forgive them, they do not know what they speak of. They may not know how to control themselves” Carter calmly spoke as the rose from his chair, meeting the prince. The man nodded, as they stood in comfortable silence. 

“Test your might, Elf. You may need it as my riders seem to be lacking in discipline.” Nólan suddenly spoke. Carter shook his head, he used violence sparingly as his people were largely peaceful. 

The rider held a sudden mischievous look on his face, lips curling into a wild smirk. “What would I have to do to make you do it? I want you to show me you can overcome your scars.” His words were serious, however, the look on the man’s face encouraged something more. 

“Do I have to mention the things that make you blush like a young maiden as you say to get you to do it? However much I anger in it, the men have loved to tell you me that you do turn red at the sound of any mention of intimacies.” 

The prince's change in demeanour sparked a deep feeling of interest within the Elf, he wanted to push the man, have him explain exactly what he meant. Carter knew his cemented morals would deeply disagree with that part of him. 

He shook his head quickly, “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He challenged. Nólan stood closer to the Elf, arms crossed against his linen shirt stretching over his frame, exaggerating his arms through rolled-up sleeves. “How about I tell you of my great journeys with your kind in a different sense?” 

Carter looked at him confused, but a sense of dread quickly filled him. “Hmm, I remember the time an Eleven maiden invited me into her chambers, I didn’t realise she would scream as loud as some say the Nazgul do.” The rider said nonchalantly, Carter blushed a furious shade of red. The prince then turned and paused in his step.

“Her husband heard of course. Although…he soon was under me too.” Carter could not believe the torture of this, the prince had not had any ale, he was not drunk. 

“You speak like one of your men, captain.” Carter warned. The man paused, raising an eyebrow, “And yet you do not stop me.” he said devilishly. The teasing was simply to encourage Carter to show him his strength.

Seeing Carter’s face turning a shade of red and his eyebrows furrowing, the prince continued his onslaught. “Or when a young Elven prince of the Woodland Realm arrived in Edoras in the thick of night. He pulled me from caring for my horse after a long day of riding. I can say that I did not regret it as he begged me to take him for the first time.” 

The man paused, “Those golden locks looked so heavenly wrapped around my fingers, and those piercing blue eyes looked in awe as I used my tong-“ 

Carter did not let the man finish his words. The Elf could not tolerate royal Elves being spoken of in such manner, even when they had brought such shame upon themselves. Nólan’s back hit quickly the wall with a thud as Carter pushed fiercely against him, easily moving him. 

Letting out a breathless satisfied sound the prince nodded, “Good. I’m glad that was all it took for you to show me you have some strength to yourself.” he said gruffly, seemingly returning to his colder demeanour. 

Carter quickly let him go, watching as the man ran his fingers through his shoulder-length waves. He could not understand how the prince could go from sinful teasing to such firmness within seconds, the most strangeness of men. 

The Elf slept soundly that night, a deep feeling of satisfaction had come upon him at reminding the prince that he was stronger than any man, even when injured. The journey began through the misty mountains in the morning, the most challenging part of their journey so far.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee


	4. Chapter 4: The beast of the Misty Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men begin their journey in the wintery Misty Mountains, a rider gets into trouble, they have to seek shelter in the comfort of an unlikely place.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The veil - Elven telepathy reference
> 
> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee

  


The blistering cold of the only passage through the misty mountains able to be crossed on horseback tore through the men of Rohan. The wind pierced through the men’s armour and seized the horse's muscles. The Elf watched as the men shivered, and the horses slowed. The cold did not affect Carter, but the suffering of the men pulled at his heart. He had not been raised to dislike men, he took pity on them. Meeting a ridge the riders pushed on, Carter continued to follow on foot, easily stepping across the snow with light footsteps. 

Darkness had begun to fall, shelter was not in sight. It was then he saw the fallen figure of a rider, the horse of the fallen rider bolting back down the passage. Carter quickly rushed to the rider, clearing snow from his face he saw it was the young rider from the tavern who had talked to him so sinfully. 

The Elf hesitated, he could not forgive the stranger for the words he had uttered to such a pure being. But, he would not let a man die alone. Carter needed the prince, he had ridden ahead of the men to keep pace. Pulling the stricken riders cloak tighter to the man. Carter breathed deeply. He had not spoken through the veil to a man before, it required deep skill. Carter did not hesitate, he reached deep inside himself, searching for the image of the blue-eyed prince. The Elf’s eyes shone like jade as he reached the man. “You must turn back, save your people. Turn back.” Nólan had seen a glimmer of light ahead, a refuge in a desolate place before the deep fog took over his mind.

Bringing his horse to a quick stop, placing a hand to his forehead. He felt the strong words of a voice, layered over itself and echoing around his head. His mind quickly found it’s way, his ward. Swiftly he turned his mount around, galloping through the snow and rock back to his riders. Carter was quickly met by the prince at his side, he grabbed the man and leaned to hear his breath.

“He lives, we must get him to shelter.” the Prince easily scooped up the smaller rider, placing him on horseback before calling to his men. Carter did not understand what the prince shouted, it was in his people’s language, the Elf sensed the determination and strength behind it. The leader and the stricken rider disappeared into the fog. Carter continued following the riders on their new course. 

A dim light hung in the distance as they turned a corner. The light then got brighter, a dull shadow of a structure graced the side of the mountain. The structure was a cabin, weathered and unstable in appearance, however, the warm glow from its windows suggested a haven was inside. A stable adorned the side of the cabin precariously balanced on a cliff's edge, warm light shone through the windows, Carter joined the men as the pushed the door open to the cabin, they were soon met with the sweet smell of wood smoke and pine.

* * *

The cabin held a heavenly shelter to the men, a large fire burned in the corner, soft hay lay the ground, food-stocks piled high in the rough cupboards. The small stables held the men’s horses perfectly, warmth, fresh hay and water already there. The company has lessened to around 15 riders or so, the other men having to take the longer route around due to stricken horses and illness. The cabin somehow accommodated every need. Carter quickly saw the sight of the prince sitting next to the stricken rider. 

The Elf met him, nodding in recognition of the man. The young rider barely opened his eyes at the presence of the Elf. “Welcome back to this world, Trávis.” the prince spoke. Carter smiled kindly at the man, he had forgotten what wrongs the man had spoken to him before. “I sense you have lead us here to shelter, rider of Rohan. I thank you.” The Elf bowed his head. The man managed to smile a crooked smile to the prince and the Elf. The men settled into the cabin, eating heavily from its stores. Carter stayed by the side of Trávïs, however, a dull feeling of warning crept up onto him. This cabin was not normal, no one could live out in the foothills of the misty mountains and thrive on such rich foods. 

He was quickly brought from his thoughts by a vicious sound. A roar louder than the icy wind itself. The Elf suddenly realised the stories he had read returned to him. This was no home, this was a den. There was no mere woodland beast outside the door, the men of Rohan were in the den of a skin-changer. The door to the cabin crashed as a force was flung against it, Carter eyed the prince as he quickly flung his sword against the log closings of the door, the men quickly barred the door with him, using their swords and axes. 

The vicious creature outside snarled in anger. The men struggled against the creature for some time, desperately pushing against the bulging door until it stopped. The men relaxed, wiping the sweat from their faces. Carter knew this was not over. Three sharp knocks came upon the damaged door. A rough, accented voice spoke through the door; “Let a cold man into the warmth of his own home, lest you know what is good for you.” The prince quickly ordered his men to remove the weapons. The men stood aside as the door swung open. There was no beast, but a man. As big as Nólan, with dark hair to his shoulders and on his face, he held wild eyes as he looked around the room. Carter knew what he was. The man sniffed the air, before breathing in slowly. “Horsemen.” he said lowly, an unknown accent heavy on his tongue, his wild eyes turned to Carter “And an Elf.” He growled. 

Carter stepped forward, clenching his jaw slightly. He did not know how to face the man, only of the knowledge that skin-changers hated Dwarves, and Orcs and were incredibly dangerous, able to wipe out a group of men in a quick few swipes. “Hail, we have suffered in the ice beyond these walls. I ask of your aid, we have no Orc or Dwarf in our company. Only the Riders of Rohan, and myself.” 

The man raised his gaze to the Elf, moving closer. From the corner of his eye, Carter noticed the prince sliding his hand down to grasp the hilt of his sword. The skin-changer soon stood in front of him, looking the Elf over. “And who does speak such words of begging?” The man questioned. “I-My name is Carter as the men gave it to me.” 

“Why must you listen to the word of men? You are an Elf are you not?” The skin-changer glanced at the scowl on the prince’s face, folding his muscled arms as he spoke. “Men are difficult beings, driven by power and lust.” Carter nodded in favour of the man's words, only to keep the peace, he asked, “Will you allow us into your home for the night? The men cannot survive in this weather and pray I could not save every one of them myself.” 

The man let out a harsh breath, a deep noise resonated in his chest. Turning to the men, his face grew into a scowl, “I have kept my home in these mountains to secure distance from other beings such as the likes of Men.” he warned lowly. 

However, the skin-changer swept his eyes over the men before relaxing slightly, taking a deep breath. “You are lucky, Men of Rohan, that my mother was one of your kind.” Carter looked on in awe, this skin-changer was half-human, he had noticed that the size of him had not compared to the tales of his kind, and he held less bestial features on his face, rather he appeared as mostly completely man, apart from the wild look behind his eyes.

“Thank you, I must express we will keep to ourselves and not disturb you if that is what you wish.” The men heard the Elf’s promised, and with some dark looks from Nólan, kept to it. Carter enjoyed the wave of quiet and eventual calm that soon took over the riders as one by one they drifted to sleep; bodies sore and minds heavy with thoughts of home.

* * *

Carter sensed that the riders slept deeply, including their leader, noticing how his locks of brown hair fell over his eyes as he lay against a chair. Attempting to make the corner of the cabin where he rested as comfortable as possible, he stood to remove his undershirt, he felt the action was dangerous, as the men could awake at any moment and look upon his exposure, the skin-changer had disappeared into the frozen weather before the men slept. 

The Elf’s mind grew distracted by the scars on his side, although reduced to thin lines, he saw them still as the fresh, ugly, and violent open wounds against his porcelain skin that they once had been. A presence soon filled Carter's mind as he sensed a body nearing his, his distraction had caused the Elf to let his guard down. A rare occurrence for an Elf. 

“The beauty of an Elven prince…” The low rasp of the skin-changer murmured in the dim light, wild eyes lingering on Carter, “Although I avoid your kind, I cannot admit it is admirable to see such purity.” The skin-changer spoke softly, a first for the interactions between the company. Carter’s usual desperation to cover up, or to run, had disappeared, turning to face the man he smiled softly. 

The skin-changer’s dark gaze met the Elf’s dark green eyes, “You do not shy from my gaze on your skin.” he said. “I do not feel I need to, we are but the same. The diminishing lasts of our kind, you may look upon me.” He had only shown his skin to the moon, the great Ithil. The journey’s with Heidrek allowed him to keep to his strict beliefs, however, he had known from the first gaze upon the captain of the riders of Rohan, that he would not stay true to his beliefs. Looking solemnly at the man, he did not shy away. “Yes, that is true.”

The man said, agreeing on their common ground. “I am Ivan, the last of my kind here in the great Misty Mountains. I have welcomed you into my home because I see your journey, I understand what you seek.” The Elf bowed his head to the man, still aware of his half-nakedness. Ivan shook his head, “You do not bow to me, Prince Círamdir. I know who you are.” The skin-changer smiled at him, Carter noticed the sharp points of his canine teeth. 

“The man in me has longed for the touch of another for so long, Prince Círamdir. I once held an Elven Princess in my arms, she brought me happiness I could have never imagined. Would you grant me this blessing, rid me of the part of me which lusts as men do? Let me feel the embrace of your kind once more?” A smooth red blush quickly hung across Carter’s face as he gazed upon the skin-changer. 

The man held beauty, in a way that was a complete opposite to Elven kind. The mans now sorrowful eyes held many years of isolation, his hair curled in a wild manner at the collar of his well-worn brown linen shirt, two large scars, clearly from the talons of another beast crept up his neck. He stood similar height to the Elf, slightly taller, his clear brawn contrasted against Carter’s lithe muscle. 

Carter considered the man's question. To let another man touch him in this way would bring him great shame, however, the similarities of the isolation between them grew the Elf closer to the man. Carter sighed lightly, “You may, I am in debt to your hospitality.” Ivan made a noise in acceptance, a low rumble deep in his throat. Carter closed his eyes and gasped lightly as the man's rough hands soon laid softly on his soldiers. 

The Elf brought his hands to wrap lightly around the skin-changers wrists. “You are ethereal, my Prince,” Ivan said roughly, sliding his hands up the Elf’s shoulders, savouring the feeling of the soft skin. Carter smiled and pressed into the touch, leaning into the man. Opening his eyes, the Elf looked deep into the dark eyes of the man, “I admire your ability to resist going further, mellon.” he spoke through the veil to man. 

The man suddenly slid his hands down the side of the Elf, rough skin catching on the scars, causing Carter to wince slightly. The man's hands rested upon the Elf’s waist, pulling him to press against his chest. Carter whimpered quietly at the feeling of the man’s rough linen shirt against his sensitive nipples. 

He stared up at the man with wide-eyes before looking down to see Ivan pull a hand to the front of the Elf’s trousers, pulling slightly at the waistband. Carter’s breath quickened as he leant further against the man, the stirrings of his first arousal in the arms of a man had made his body feel like the flashes of fierce lightning across the sky. “Would you let me if I continued?” The man leant to whisper huskily into the Elf’s pointed ear, rough beard scraping at Carter's jaw.

The Elf could only savour the man's touch, unable to answer, afraid that he would let him. “If you would let me, I would make you feel beyond this earthly realm.” The man breathed against Carter’s pale neck.

Ivan began to bring his lips to the Elf’s neck, pausing just before he began to move to place them and savour the beauty of the Elf. His eyes suddenly flashed wild, feral. 

“Is that a wise decision, beast?” the deep voice of Nólan snarled in question through the dimness, Carter looked over the skin-changers shoulder with disbelief, the man stood close to the two men; a sword angled at the skin-changers neck.

“It is unwise to meddle in the affairs of beings greater than you, horse-lord,” Ivan warned, turning his head, teeth bared. 

The rider shook his head, “Can you not see you are under the Elf’s charm?” He questioned, the sword now pressing against the skin-changers neck. "Do not take me as a fool I am under no spell.” Ivan retorted, gripping Carter’s hip tighter. They continued to stand off, until a loud shuffling was heard before a yell to the side of the three.

* * *

A figure tackled the skin-changer. They tumbled into the corner of the room. The skin-changer was much larger than the figure, easily ripping him off him as they hit the ground. The rider, however, continued to lunge at the man, attempting to pin his arms to the ground.

In a flurry of movement, the skin-changer stood to lunge at the figure. Carter scrambled to cover himself with his shirt once more, he then saw whom it was entwined in the beast. It was the man who had been entranced by him, and the man he just saved, Trávis.

The rider held great fear in his eyes. Ivan roared in a vicious tone, plunging at the Rohirrim. However, the shorter stature of the rider came to his advantage, he quickly side-stepped the skin-changer, tripping the skin-changers feet up in the process. Ivan crashed to the floor, a great crack as his head hit the ground, he lay dazed. Trávis scrambled to attempt to pin the man down. He looked up to Carter and Nólan. “My life has been spared, I give it to you in return; all of you, go.” He gasped through the heavy breathing. Nólan stared at the man, considering. Cocking his head to look at the skin-changer below the rider-raised an eyebrow. “The beast is stunned, get up, you are not dying here,” Nólan ordered. 

The prince spun fiercely around to the stirring riders, “Get up men! If you wish to see the great plains of Rohan again, then ride!” Nólan commanded into the silence of the cabin. Within seconds the riders stood, obedient yet tired.

“Move! To the horses!” Nólan ordered as the men filed out the door, he glanced at the skin-changer still under the rider. Lunging forward, the prince grabbed the rider by his collar, easily pulling him off the beast. He quickly placed a hand around Carter’s waist, just as the entranced beast had done before, “He can resist” Carter thought to himself before he and Trávis were dragged out the door behind the riders. 

The dawn lay just on the horizon, providing little light to saddle the horses up, it was fortunate the riders were masters of their craft and they were soon riding off into the snow-beaten tracks. The roars of howls echoed through the valley as the men rode at a fierce pace, a vicious mix of the voice of a man and the roar of the beast could be heard, “Riders of Rohan! I will feast on your children and wives as you watch in horror! You will not escape me!” 

The feeling of terror ripped through Carter. “Do not fear him, he does not understand the skill of the horsemen of Rohan.” Came the warm voice of Trávis through the roaring wind. Carter had been dragged onto his own horse by Trávis. As the man had lost his own in the snow, Carter did not complain as the Rohirrim had grabbed the reigns. However vicious the skin-changer was which was hunting them, Carter still felt remorse. He spoke to the skin-changer one last time, “I am sorry.” He whispered through the veil.

  



	5. Chapter 5: Nuinë (River)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homoerotic river bathing time.
> 
> Here are some pics I took for inspo of a river fresh from NZ.
> 
> copy and paste idk how to format lmao [https://crossstones.tumblr.com/post/641142441689415680 ](url)  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alatya - to shield, ward off, protect  
> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee

  


The winter depths of the misty mountains soon turned into lightly wooded green plains beyond. The riders thoroughly enjoyed the flat terrain as the horses could run at speed efficiently, meaning time spared could be spent gathered around campfires and bathing naked in rivers and creeks like true journeymen. Carter mostly averted his eyes from the men as they bathed, going red in the face, as Trávis often thoroughly enjoyed commenting on. However much he avoided the men, he could not but help himself when catching slight glances of their leader. The great inked antlers always caught the Elf’s keen eyes, swooping up the captains prominent “v-like” hip to wrap around the base of his ribs. 

Carter’s hastily cut hair had grown back quickly, as Elven hair does, it lay softly across his back. He distracted himself from the man by curling it around his fingers. Becoming too indulged in the repetitiveness, he ignored the figure approaching him. Only when a short clearing of the throat shook him back into reality did he realise who it was. The prince stood in front of him, the Elf’s eyes eye-line to his hips, a thin linen cloth was wrapped low around his waist. 

Carter struggled to focus on anything but the beads of river water still curling down the man’s abdomen and the lines of the tattoo which so often ran through his mind. It was even more impressive up close. “Carter?” The prince's voice shook him into focus, jumping slightly. The Elf glanced up at the man, a slight smirk was hidden on his face, he could see what the Elf had been so stricken by.

“You have not bathed in days... I know your kind are deeply magical beings but are you really beyond hygiene? This is advice coming from a man of Rohan” The prince laughed slightly, Carter gulped as he thought of the peering eyes of the men. He could not let the be prince be unaware of his worries. “I worry your men will stare at me too often, you have seen what happens to some, however much I don’t understand why.” Carter admitted, fixing his eyes on a particularly large scar across the man’s collarbone. There was so much more to see now he was up close.

“I can show you to a place away from the rest of the men? It will be secluded.” The man paused, “But I must insist I stay at the best nearby, as you may never know what lurks in these thickets.” The prince pressed. A particularly loud yell broke their silence as a larger rider had appeared to tackle another in the water, sending other men flying and waves hitting the shallow bank of the river. Carter watched the way Nólan’s concerned look turned soft as he glanced over his shoulder. “Would you stare at me as one of the men do?” Carter asked, concerned. The prince quickly shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest, muscles in his arms becoming more pronounced, Carter glanced at the cloth on his hips, clinging on for dear life. 

The man made a low hum of consideration in his throat before sternly expressing, “I am here to protect you, not to stare like some lecherous drunkard leering at a barmaid.” He then lowered his voice slightly, “Only, if that is what you wish.” His words sounded as if they were a joke, but the Elf sensed there was some truth to them. Carter could feel himself hurriedly blush a fierce red. Soon enough they were strolling past the men, Carter blushing furiously at the men’s cheers, Nólan assuring him it is usual for men to have such behaviours. The cove they reached was bathed in a golden hue filtered slightly green through the leaves of the willows and oaks surrounding it. “All for you, Simbelmynë.” The man commented, Carter had not heard this name used for him since the borders of Rivendell, but the language of the Rohirrim flowed like velvet off the Prince’s tongue and the warmth behind the name, although Carter did not understand it, greatly comforted him. 

* * *

They stood by the shore for a moment before Carter glanced up at the man, “Are you going to stay here?” He questioned, Nólan nodded stating “Of course, for your safety.” Carter glanced down at the rocks under his feet, “Will you be able to avert your eyes from me?” He asked. “Yes, tell me when you want me too” Nólan agreed. Carter was sceptical, with furrowed eyebrows he questioned, “But you are a man are you not? There has already been one man gone mad at the sight of me.” Nólan scoffed, “Yes, and the man soon had my blade at his neck, did he not?” The man then grinned at him, “Go, we must get back to the men soon.” Carter stared at the man until he understood for him to turn around. 

Carter slowly began to undress, the buttons and straps of his clothes soon slipping between his fingers. As his clothes dropped to the stony shore, the Elf gasped quietly at the feeling of the fresh air hitting his pale, unmarred skin. The river was no Elven bath, but the soft current provided clear and clean water. 

The Elf waded up to his stomach, running his hands through his now long hair before reaching to slowly undo the braids which he kept. Carter glanced over his shoulder, the Rohirrim stood, cross-armed and facing away from the river respectfully. Although the Elf had asked for this, he also wished to test the prince again. Nólan had already seen him mostly de-robed, he had paid no attention, he did not join in on the skin-changers mesmerisation. 

Conflict had grown deep within the Elf, when he saw the rider a twang of an unknown feeling often rocked through him. He had spent nights alone, reflecting on his purity, speaking to the moon and questioning the knowledge he had from books of Elven traditions of sex and desires, he knew this was what he was stricken with. This part of him took over as he found himself speaking. “Nólan, you may look.” He said over the steady sound of the river. The rider hesitated before slowly turning. Carter could tell his eyes widened at the sight. 

To the man, the Elf was the most ethereal sight he had seen. He stood bathed in the golden-green filtered light from the trees, wet hair framing his strong but slim shoulders, the water lapping at the smooth but lightly muscled plains of his stomach. The Elf’s soft green eyes met the riders, as a warm blush made its way up the Elf’s neck. 

Nólan hummed lowly in admiration, kneeling to sit on the rocky shore, placing his sword to the side, his eyes soon wandered once again, Carter following them as they travelled down his neck. The rider's eyes explored further, glancing at his pretty pink nipples, hardened by the temperature of the water. The Elf opened his mouth slightly in a silent gasp as the man’s eyes kept travelling, ruthlessly. Nólan indulged himself in the soft lines of the Elf’s hips, the way his stomach tapered beautifully downwards, and the delicate line of light brown hair dusting his skin just above the water. The Rohirrim paused at the waterline, so viciously low on the Elf’s hips. He did not dare look any lower. Carter squirmed slightly at the man’s gaze, playing with his hair. 

Nólan smiled a sight which Carter always thoroughly enjoyed, especially when he could see the thin gap in his front teeth. “I thought I would never be clean until we came upon this river, I still had the stench of orc blood in my trousers somehow..” Nólan thought aloud. Carter frowned, he had not fought so far, although he knew Nólan was aware of his ability to excel with a blade and bow. “The familiar smells of a journey.” Carter smiled at the man who was running a stone over his hands, watching as it fell to the ground. The water splashed lightly as Carter wet his hair. The rider's eyes watching him intently as he ran his hands through it. 

The Elf turned to the prince, “Will you do something for me, alatya? He said softly. “Yes, anything.” The rider responded quickly. To the man’s shock the Elf rose out of the water, ethereal, the man thought as he kept his eyes to the Elf’s face. The rocks shifted under Carter’s feet as he reached the shore, now shameless in front of the man in his exposure. He did not fear the other men seeing him in full, at the moment it was him and the man that sat in front of him. The rider stood to meet him, looking down at the Elf with darkened eyes. “Tell me.” The man said lowly. 

“Would you help braid my hair?” The Elf asked, placing his hands against the man’s solid chest. Nólan’s eyes fell to meet them, letting out a slightly ragged breath at the touch. To the Rohirrim, this request at first seemed insignificant, but he knew of a sacred stature of Elven hair. The Elf turned around, Nólan’ eyes wandered over the slender pale shoulders before bringing a hand to the Elf’s hair. “Do you know what to do?” Carter asked softly. 

The man did not want to admit his prior experience with Elves in such an intimate way, the last time having sent Carter into waves of embarrassments. The thin strands of hair slid softly through the man’s rough hands as he began the first of two thin braids, pulling the hair softly over the Elf’s ear. Carter smiled softly to himself, remembering how stern the prince was at their first meeting. 

* * *

“Do you remember when you met me at the start of this journey?” He asked, Nólan hummed low in his throat, “Yes, I was harsh, but inside I could not believe you were to travel with me and that I held the duty of your safety” The Elf shivered slightly as the man’s calloused fingers brushed the skin on his neck. Carter was enjoying the soft feeling of the light pull on his hair, eyes softly closing, the Elf was also acutely aware of his nakedness and the twitch of his soft length between his thighs. He had never touched himself, keeping to strict celibacy. 

However, on the hot nights alone at Rivendell, impure thoughts often came to him. Flashes of a Rivendell guard with long dark hair, high cheekbones and icy blue eyes who often caught his eye at meetings with Elrond had struck him. In the days before he left with the riders, another vision came, he had squirmed in his sleep, his length hard against his stomach as flashes of blue eyes, strong arms, and a low voice rocked through his head, this was different. 

It had been no Elf which he saw. “I can appreciate a leader who is stern.” The Elf admitted. The prince had finished one braid, deft fingers beginning on the second as Carter’s hair dried in the warm air. They continued to talk in soft relaxed voices, as Nólan finished the second, the Elf turned to face him, “Thank you, I feel we understand one another even more now.” The man bowed slightly, “It is a privilege.” He said with a grin. 

Carter turned to pick his clothing up from the nearby rock it sat on, he made sure to swing his hips slightly, looking over his shoulder to see the princes eyes plastered on him, dark and wild before he turned away, “Still so respectful...” The Elf thought.

* * *

Smirking to himself, pleased as he slid on the clothes something else was quickly brought to the Elf’s attention. An orc. Walking defiantly towards him from the thicket of trees in front of him, vicious blade at hand. The Elf stood back, surprised as he reached for his blade, to no avail. “Nólan?” He asked whilst staring straight at the beast. It’s foul stench had already crept its way through to the Elf’s nose, it’s hair was matted, skin a midnight black plastered with mud and war paint. This was a large orc, bigger than Carter. 

The orc drew nearer, “A pretty little thing you are.” It growled. “Not as much pretty as the price on your head.” It spat. Carter stepped back instinctively, only to be met by the solid frame of Nólan against his back. Relieved he began to speak but was quickly stopped as he felt the cool metal of a blade at his neck. Attempting to look up at the man with shocked eyes, Carter gasped. “Trust me” The rider whispered lowly. 

The prince wild eyes met the dark pits of the orc’s. “Take your pick, filth.” The prince growled out, chest reverberating against Carter’s back. “You watch his pretty neck get cut as you lose your prize, or I cut yours for you.” The man held devilish smirk on his face, the Elf knew to play along. 

“I am already captured.” He said desperately, forcing a fake squirm against the man’s gentle grip on his waist. 

The orc stood confused, unable to understand the situation. “Now you turn around, my friend. Go and tell your little captains and friends that the whore-Elf belongs to Rohan.” The prince breathed out in such a threatening tone. 

Carter did not fake his next wriggle as the insult left the man’s lips. He glanced down at the blade, ever so close but held with a firm and steady hand. “Take one step forward. See what happens to your prize.” The man snarled, pressing the blade ever so slightly into the skin of the Elf. 

The orc spat viciously in its own tongue before turning, being to march back into the woods. Nólan placed the blade in Carter’s hand, “Your prize for playing along, Simbelmynë.” He grinned. Carter quickly moved behind the orc, his Eleven abilities in clear show as he quickly slit the throat of the vile creature. 

Quickly turning back to the prince he threw the dagger into the air, the prince barely managing to catch it by it’s handle, turning to look back at the Elf with a raised eyebrow and shocked expression. “Tell me, why did you decide to put on that little play Nólan?” Carter questioned angrily, hands on his hips. 

The man still looked back, stunned by the previous action of the Elf. “I thought our relaxing time by the river needed some excitement, and well... the opportunity arose.” The man admitted. The Elf scoffed, shaking his head, “The madness of men surprises me once again.” He said before walking past Nólan. “Oh and you may want to check on your men, when there is one orc, there is usually twenty more.” The Elf smiled back before leaving the man alone on the shore, still awestruck from the Elf’s skill with a blade.  


  



	6. Chapter 6: A Golden Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The riders arrive at the town of Raegmund on the outskirts Rohan. Carter is given a task, as Nólan grows jealous from the shadows and seeks an old friend of his.

A golden sun had risen over the gap of Rohan, bathing the plains below in brilliant light. The riders had camped in a clearing near the wooded river in which they had bathed in, all orc threats having been quickly eliminated by both man and Elf. Carter had relished the feeling of fighting once more, remembering how he smiled to himself as he cut down the vicious creatures.

Carter reminisced on how the prince had caught his eye, the fighting style of the man greatly contrasted his own, he fought like a well-seasoned beast, easily overpowering multiple orcs at a time. 

The Elf had watched Nólan finish off the last remaining orcs, laughing slightly as the man grabbed one in a chokehold, throwing it to the ground before plunging a spear through the filthy and wart-ridden skin of the creature. 

Carter scoffed, “One would think if they did not know you were a prince, that you could be one of them? Fighting as that“ Carter had quipped with a challenging nod of the head. Nólan had simply raised an eyebrow at him before stabbing the spear into the ground, moving towards the Elf. “If I were an Orc, I don’t think you would look at me the way I know you so often do.” The rider had said without hesitation, wiping Orcish blood from his face and neck, Carter’s eyes followed the man’s fingers as they slid down his neck, covering themselves in the black liquid.

The Elf grimaced as the man wiped his fingers on his leather trousers, not surprised by the lack of consideration. 

Carter awoke the next day to golden light dancing on his eyes, it reminded him of his days spent in Elven halls; bathed in the sacred light. The riders had quickly dressed, clothes flailing and rambunctious arguments breaking out. Carter laughed from where he sat on the fresh grass. Feeling a presence next to him, he glanced up to the tall frame of the prince. “They grow restless.“ The leader said calmly.

“Edoras calls to its riders. It is soon time to return.” Carter stood, “Do you grow restless as they do?” He questioned. “I think of the sight of Meduseld every eve… the great Golden Hall of my home does call me Elf, although I do not let it rule me as some men do.” Carter studied the prince’s solemn expression, the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly and the slight curl of his lips faded.

They stood in silence as the chatter of the men seemingly faded into the fresh morning air, “I am sorry you do not have a home to long for whilst on this journey.” Nólan said softly. Carter nodded, “But my home is still in my mind, although it is destroyed. This journey with your men has provided me with an insight of freedom that I know your riders feel.” The Elf adjusted his braids slightly, “It makes me happy to see they are excited for the sight of their homeland.

” The prince hummed in agreement, “Then we ride to gates of Edoras, we must past through the village of Raegmund first. We will acquire our last provisions there. Come, your horse grows restless at your absence. She is a fair creature.” Carter nodded in agreement, “The men are nearing the end of their journey, we shall continue by ourselves once we have reached Edoras.” Nólan sighed. 

“From there, it is our quest alone to find the artefacts,” Carter admitted, looking to the dew-filled ground beneath his feet before glancing back to the rider. “We shall not fail.” The prince said through a defiant but bright look.

* * *

  


They rode swiftly, a pace in which Carter had to quickly become used to whilst riding with the men. The Elf rode by the side of the prince, always admiring his skill with the horse. “So Nólan, once we make our way through Raegmund and to Edoras, you will return to a woman? Children?” Carter asked through the wail of the wind. 

The prince smirked in response. “I think we both know the answer to that, Elf.” He said quietly, Carter’s keen ears could only just hear it, and for him, it was meant only to hear. The Elf kept his mind focused on the path ahead as they continued their ride, however, the thought of what grew between himself and the man continued to spin through his mind. 

“I would like to give you as much comfort as I can provide whilst you stay at Meduseld, I cannot give the same as the halls of Rivendell, but I will try my best. I hope my friend and Raegmund shall do the same.” Nólan spoke as he bought his horse closer to Carter’s. Carter shook his head, “You do not have to do that, I am no spoilt Elf prince.” He laughed.

“Please, let me. I want to make up for any of my or my men’s behaviour which has gone against your traditions.” The small village of Raegmund stood between the riders and Edoras. It stood in a small hollow in the earth, sheltered slightly from the wild wind of the plains. Carter sensed the sight of the village’s simple wooden homes greatly comforted those men who were homesick. 

It was no Rivendell, or Woodland realm, but the harshness of the wilds of Rohan did not deprive them of a warm heart, and a strong roof over their head. “This place is a merry place, although hardy. I have great relations with their leader, he is a fine man.” Nólan informed the Elf as they stepped through the great doors of the lord’s hall. 

The man stood around a grand table, he was large in stature, taller than both Carter and Nòlan. As he turned to face the group, a brown beard mixed with fiery red graced his long face. His blue eyes contrasted against the dullness of the prince’s as they gleamed brightly. 

The man's hair lay just below his ears, turning to curled waves just above the collar of his woollen tunic. “It has been too long since I have seen you, Prince Nólan. “And you.” The man said fiercely, pushing past the Prince towards Carter. The Elf captured the quick flash of something unknown in Nólan’s eyes. “It has been long since I have seen an Elf in my halls.” 

The weight of the man’s hand on his shoulder shook Carter slightly as he clapped Carter’s shoulder, however, he stood defiant. “You will find the last time there was an Elf in Raegmund, they were either in little pieces or wrapped around my-well, your kind would not like to hear the details” The man spoke before he roared with laughter. “I am not truthful, in one of those things at least. I’m sure you can decide which one.” Nólan looked fiercely on, although knowing the humorous nature of the man. 

The interaction with Carter brought the prince annoyance that a man would first mention lust to an Elf of such high stature. Turning to the lord he placed a hand on his shoulder, watching as the Elf’s green eyes quickly glanced at the grip of his fingers. He talked quietly as he spoke, “Food, shelter, a good nights rest.

Would you be so kind in granting this to my company?” Nólan asked as he lead the man to turn around gently. The lord's eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I would consider this favour.” He thought aloud. “If you were to give me a desire of my own.” The prince’s face turned dark, “And what would that be.” He said coldly.

The lord turned slowly to Carter, face a sudden dark. His voice dropped, “I know your kind, your skills in swordsmanship and marksmanship.” The lord said darkly, Carter shivered slightly at his tone, eyes creeping down to notice the way Nólan’s hand slid towards the hilt of his blade at his side.

The lord paused, sighing as if a wave had rushed over him. “Teach my son, he is very young, but he must begin to learn at his very young age.” He asked, dark tone removed from his voice. The Elf looked past the man’s shoulder to the Prince, returning a slow nod of his head. Carter questioned the request for a moment before speaking, “Yes, I will honour this. 

I will teach him what I know, he will be swift as the Elves, and strong as the men of Rohan, ” Bowing to the lord before him. The men settled into the town of Raegmund as if it was their own great Edoras, spreading great merriment along with drunkenness and other festivities fiercely throughout the night at the lord’s discretion. Carter stayed by the prince’s side, admiring the escapades of the men through the great hall along with the smile of the horse lord as he discussed the realm with Lord Kevaín.

As the summer nights had grown warm, the familiar sight of the moon graced Carter’s vision once again. The night had slipped away and the men much the same, collapsed around the town like fallen trees. Immediately drawn to the moon, even from inside the wooden walls of the hall, Carter quietly slipped away. He did not want to traditionally expose himself fully to the moon, to avoid the sight of a drunken villager or rider. 

Nevertheless, he bathed his face in its brilliant light, opening the buttons half-way down his red linen shirt. His bare feet on the rough balcony of the hall was the only thing grounding him to the earth. 

A strong arm wrapped around his waist, he did not flinch, however, knowing whom it belonged to he let it happen. “It is late… come to my quarters to rest tonight, I fear the respect of my men may fall away in a drunken state if they should come across you like this.” The proximity of the man, his size and low voice brought Carter quickly back down from the clouds of his ritual. 

Carter nodded lightly, head still feathery from his thoughts. Nólan kept his arm firmly around the Elf’s waist until they reached his quarters, something inside the Elf pulled at the small gesture, as if the string of a harp had been plucked fiercely. 

The man’s arm slipped from Carter’s waist as they entered the guest quarters. Carter reacted as usual to the man immediately shamelessly stripping off, eyes wandering as if enchanted by an invisible force. 

The man’s eyes caught his own as he slipped his shirt over his head, an unknown emotion behind them. “You did not share a bed with Henrik for your safety?” He questioned, placing his clothes at the foot of the large bed. 

He quickly walked over to the Elf, helping him out of his shirt. Carter breathed a sharp intake of air at the man’s lack of hesitation. 

“I did not, but with you, I will allow it. You know what grows between us, however unsure we both may be about it, mellon.” 

The man hummed low in agreement. “I am sure time will soon tell what that is, however, I think we both know already.”

* * *

  


They slept with a great distance between them, however, Carter felt as if an invisible force dragged them together as a great glacier pulled itself forwards. Carter met the lord and his young son in the training ground at dawn as they had discussed, the boy could not have been more than five winters old. Carter smiled as the boy hid behind the legs of the lord standing to face him. “Then you shall begin. The sun shines upon you both.” 

The lord said with a smile before squatting down, saying words of encouragement softly in his mother tongue to the boy. Carter smiled at them softly, he could sense how much the man cared for his son, and how much the son looked up to his father as he peered up with him with wide eyes. 

The boy learned quickly even though his age. Carter admired the child’s intuition, he previously would have dismissed this, however, he had grown to accept men better than before.

The boy laughed joyfully as he fiercely attempted to counter Carter’s advances with his sword, the long blonde curls hair flailing wildly as he spun towards the Elf, barely able to keep balance. They progressed quickly, from Carter teaching the boy to hold a wooden sword to the boy coherently swinging it, as best a child could.

They took a small break, walking to drink from the freshwater of the nearby stream. Carter warned the boy that the next task would challenge him greatly. The boy became upset as he began on the hardest aspect, cheeks flaming red and eyes upset but angry as he struggled to latch the small wooden bow with the dull arrow.

“Let me help, Elf. I can assure you I am a master of the bow.” Travís said with a wild grin on his face, facial hair emphasising his crazed look. The boy began hurling war-like threats at the man instantly, Travís laughed loudly, “A true Rohirrim he is!” He shouted into the quiet of the training ground.

They lined up next to the targets, bow in hand. The boy struggled at first, but closed his eyes, remembering what the Elf had taught him. Carter shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation before leading them. “Ready…aim.” Carter shook his head once more before giving the order to fire. 

“Fire!” He said sternly. However, just as the Elf had said his final command, the Rohir had yelled incoherently in a high pitched voice. The boy shook, frightened by the sudden noise, his arrow careening off into the hill beyond the targets. 

Carter gasped in surprise at the unfairness of the man towards a mere child, “Trávis you are a very strange man do you know that?” Carter said without hesitation, comforting the boy as he frowned in disappointment. They continued to train through the afternoon amidst the jeers and taught of Travís. 

The boy began to understand Carter’s teachings, nodding his understanding and asking questions in a shy voice. Travís later rejoined, desperately attempting to teach the boy how to wrestle. 

Carter laughed lightly and smiled in awe as he watched on, his eyes however drawn to the door to the hall. Nólan stood calmly in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he looked on observant but unsure. Something inside Nólan roared at the sight of Trávis and Carter with the boy as Carter began to join in with the fun, so unlike his prior self as he became lightly covered in mud. 

A flood of memories returned to Nólan as he remembered who lay beyond Raegmund. They would help him solve the flame which grew inside his mind. As the training session drew to a close, the boy waved his goodbyes to the two tutors before grabbing the hand of the lord and following him away to feed the halls animals.

Pulling the Elf to the side Nólan confessed, “I am sorry Carter, I must leave you for a day. This is the only time I will leave your side; take my word. I have entrusted both Lord Keván and Trávis to your safety. I am sure they will suffice, if not, then I will know, and I will be able to come to you.” Nólan rushed into the great hall to his quarters to pack some light provisions, pulling the lord aside as he returned with his son, a maid lead the boy away to the lord's dismay. 

“Has the sorceress returned?” Nòlan demanded in a fierce whisper. 

Later, Carter lay in bed , mind racing, he shifted against the linen of the bed; drawn to the thought of teaching his own son with a wooden bow at hand. As well as the warmth from the man who had been so dangerously close to his side the eve before, the bed beside him lay empty at the prince’s sudden disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee


	7. Chapter 7: Ælfwine, 'Elf-friend'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nólan reunites with an old friend, in more ways than one, to learn of his connections with the rare Elf at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meldo - friend, lover  
> Ialtha nin, maethor - Join me, warrior  
> Rochir - Knight, Horse-lord  
> Navaer - Farewell, be well
> 
> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee

The sorceress was unlike her own Elven kind, having left the woodland realm hundreds of years before the prince was born due to her nature. The sorceress went by the name of Faeleth, living a simple, but fair existence. The small birch cabin lay in a small clearing on the edge of the forest bordering the village, surrounded by herbs used for Elven medicines. 

Nólan had often come to the outskirts of Raegmund to seek the Elf, after stumbling upon her during a ride. Spending many hours with the Elf when he needed guidance. 

They had a unique arrangement, the sorceress would give the prince her vast wisdom, in return, he would give her whatever she pleased. This lead to spending many nights by her warm hearth listening to her wisdom, and many nights between her thighs as she often wanted. 

The prince rode hard, pushing his horse as fast as he could to reach the sorceress in time before the sunset was low over the horizon. By the time he reached the small cabin sweat soaked his riding clothes, causing a dull shiver to seep down his spine.

* * *

The Elf was already waiting for him, hands clasped in front of her as she stood waiting. “Faeleth…” Nólan said through heavy breath as he dismounted the horse. “It has been long since I have seen you, _meldo _” She smiled, bowing her head gracefully, her long white-blonde hair shivering in the light of lanterns before falling over her shoulder slightly. Nólan smiled, nodding slowly in response.__

____

The Elf’s beauty always bought surprise to him every time he visited, her tall frame, strong light blue eyes, long nose and silken hair, whilst was beautiful, fooled many men of the great plains of the dangers and powers of the woman. 

She quickly ushered him inside, as there was no question or suspicions, Nólan already knew he was more than welcome anytime.

The wafting smells of herbs and incense filled the small cabin interior as the hearth glowed with warmth, hanging pots filled with brewing medicines slung onto the iron rail across it. It was a pleasing, but harsh smell inside the cabin to the rider, as he had become used to the stench of horses, men, and the smell of blood. “You have returned from a journey I hear?” Nólan asked. 

Over the years they had grown comfortable in the presence of each other, the Elf lacked the fear of indecency that Carter and most normal Elves had, stripping from her riding clothes, exposing the vastness of her soft pale skin. Nólan’s eyes slowly and leisurely followed the lines of her body, knowing how much the Elf did enjoy his wants.

It had been long since he had been graced by the presence of a woman, especially one so powerful and fair as an Elf. Slipping on a sheer robe, Faeleth turned to the Rohir, the robe was open at the chest in a long “V” shape, reaching down to her stomach.

Nólan smirked slightly as he raised his eyes to meet hers at the way the robe perfectly framed her supple pale breasts, he had often spent nights driving her wild by teasing the soft and sensitive skin there. “ _Ialtha nin, maethor. _” She gestured towards the prince’s wet and visibly uncomfortable riding clothes.__

____

Nólan quickly stripped to his loose linen breeches to the keen eye and grin of the Elven host. After he placed his clothes by the warmth of the fire, the Elf hummed softly before questioning, “Tell me, what do you wish to know?” Sitting opposite the man by the hearth. “There is….” Nólan began. “An Elven man who has captured the stoic heart of a Rohirrim.” The sorceress finished his sentence.

The prince nodded quickly, running his hand down to his knee where it had laid on his thigh. “Yes, I wish to know what may become of this feeling we experience between one another.” He said, meeting the light of the Elf’s interested eyes. “He is no Elf of Mirkwood or Rivendell. Is he?” She quipped, drinking deeply from a goblet of Dorwinion. The man nodded in response, sipping from his mug of her home-brewed mead. “Such beautiful souls… However prudent they are.” Faeleth laughed softly, gesturing to her exposure in comparison.

With their chosen drinks drained, the Elf stood placing her hands in the Rohirrim’s own, guiding him to join her. Nólan recognised the look of the soft spark of determination in her eyes. He held her in an embrace, pulling closer to lean towards him she breathed a sigh of relief.

“My dear man, you know what I desire.” She whispered lowly into the Rohir’s neck. Nólan hummed lowly in agreement, pressing closer to her. “Has your appetite grown since we had last met?” He questioned, bringing a hand to rest on the exposed skin between the robe.

“You know men try to please me, but none as well as you, Rochir.” Faeleth spoke, determined.

* * *

Nólan soon had the Elven maiden on the soft linens of her bed, graceful legs thrown over his shoulder as he held her down with a hand softly across her stomach, using his tongue and mouth on her with vigour. Spending much of the cool evening at the powerful Elf’s bidding.

“Are you satisfied, my lady?” He asked through his ragged breath. The Elf’s slender fingers moved to his hair, running through it and pulling softly. “Oh yes, I’ve found I have missed your touch greatly horse lord.” A grin grew on her face. “It has been much too long since we have communed with the Valar” Faeleth said with a soft laugh.

“Then you might fulfil my request?” Nólan questioned. Faeleth smiled in response, the pleased look from before still lingering on her face. Pushing on the shoulders of the man in front of her, Nólan obediently fell back, allowing the Elf to straddle his hips and tower over him. “Let me show you what I have seen.”

The sorceress grinned. She closed her eyes softly, breathing deeply as he placed a hand on the man’s chest. A flash of white light struck Nólan’s vision before it cleared as fast as it began. His view now hollowed, but it was clear what he saw.

His Elf in technicolour, in all manners of deep connection to himself. Dressed at his side in fineries at an Elven celebration, laughing as he watched Nólan try and wrangle a particularly difficult horse, fierce and graceful in battle alongside the man, by his side as he became King of Rohan, by his side in bed and whimpering desperately underneath him as the prince took him for the first time, he was a vessel of pure beauty, vicious might, and deep lust.

“He has thought the same as you, dear Nólan.” The sorceress spoke through the vision.

The man was soon stood at the doorway, bidding farewell to his friend. The warm light of the cabin seeping out through the crack in the door where the Elf stood barely lit the area.

“Oh, and the Elf?” She asked with a cocky smirk. “Bring him next time, I would love to watch him fall apart under me.” Nólan raised an eyebrow in response. “Don’t look so hurt, I know you secretly are willingly to share him. Oh… and he is willing to be shared.” The sorceress reprimanded. Nólan nodded his head in response, laughing slightly at the suggestion by the Elf. " _Navaer _, Nólan."__

____

____

Nólan rode in the dim light of the new morn, swift but non-urgently as he had his answers, and his satisfaction. Raegmund remained safe as he had hoped, he never knew when villages or towns could be raided by Orcs, however, he would have not let that happen with the Elf remaining inside its walls.

Townsfolk awed at his presence as he rode up the small knoll to the great hall. Nólan dutifully acknowledged them, bowing his head at the elders, smiling at maidens to their husband's objections and laughing with children who tried to run beside him.

“Raegmund is a worthy place.” He thought to himself. As he reached the great hall, he felt a strange sensation wash over him, as if he was being called towards the door. An invisible force pushing him along.


	8. Chapter 8: Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their tensions are released as Carter experiences his first taste of pleasure, whilst keeping his purity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meleth - Love
> 
> Feedback greatly appreciated pleaseee

As he reached his temporary quarters the metal of the doorknob felt ablaze in his hand as he opened the door slowly, hinges creaking slightly. Nòlan opened his mouth in a quiet gasp as he saw what was beyond the door. The Elf lay on the bed, naked except his thin layer on linen over his ass. 

Of which was up high in the air as he stretched his back, arching it beautifully. Nòlan lost himself in the blinding beauty of the elven skin, pale and untouched, almost glowing a soft white hue in the dim light of the room. 

Carter’s long hair cascaded over his shoulder and onto the linen below, straight strands of hair framing the strong shoulders, sculptured from his talent with a bow and blade. Nólan’s eyes quickly darkened as he followed the Elf’s body, in its unspeakable beauty, lower. Meeting the round curve of the Elf’s behind, the man could not help himself searching lower to where the linen showed the form of what lay between the elf’s legs, Carter tossed his hair in exaggeration, desperate to see what lay higher also, between the muscle of the Elf’s ass.

The elf’s gaze met his, eyes piercing deep into the man’s, seemingly pinning his feet to the wooden floor below. “ _Maethor _, come to me.” the Elf’s voice spun around Nòlan’s head. Every time Carter spoke to Nòlan this way, the man truly understood his power.__

__

__His mortal body had nothing over the Elf’s, nor over his magic and abilities which had yet to be shown fully. Nòlan felt his own feet answering Carter’s call, guiding him forwards to the bedside as the elf moved gracefully to rest forwards on his stomach, blinking slowly as he took in the ragged clothes of the rider._ _

__

__Carter did not recoil as Nólan rested a hand on the silken gracefully muscled skin of his back. The Elf turned his head, two soft strands of hair falling near his green eyes, clouded over by what Nólan could clearly see was the elf’s first signs of arousal._ _

__

__“My Prince, what has grown between us?” The Elf asked softly, voice wavering in the air between them instead of strong in the mans head as he moved to sit from his resting position, legs hanging off of the side of the bed as he looked up at the man above him._ _

__

__“I fear I say the same for you, _Simbelmynë _,” Nólan said lowly, bringing his hand to brush against the Elf’s soft hair. “I think of you so often, being close to you brings me a sense of joy I have never experienced.”___ _

___ _

___The man’s finger curled around to lightly brush the shell fo the elf’s pointed ear, remembering how the sorceress had once bewitched him as a very young man._ _ _

___ _

___Nòlan sighed, “Have you finally driven me mad too?” The elf leaned into the touch before he spoke,_ _ _

___ _

___“You will find it is yourself whom has driven me mad.”_ _ _

___ _

* * *

__

__

____

The Elf was soon pulled towards the man, as Nólan could not look at anything but the beautiful creature in front of him as he stood, eyes following the graceful hands slowly stripping the Rohir of his shirt, tossing it aside as the Elf leaned towards the man. 

Carter sighed in relief as strong hands lead him carefully to turn around, meeting him on the bed and guiding him to be sat straddled the prince’s hips as the man leant back against the intricate bed-frame behind them. 

__The Elf breathed deeply, running his hands through his long hair as the man followed his every move, how the pale muscles shifted in his arms and stomach, how his eyes began closing at the feeling of his hands through his silken hair._ _

* * *

Carter made a small yelp as the prince bucked his hips in a slow-motion, smirking at the reaction of the Elf. “I can promise you shall keep your purity tonight if that is what you wish. Though, I beg of you to let me show you the pleasure you have not experienced in your thousands of moons.” The man said lowly through a ragged breath, so obviously affected by the elf’s very presence. “I want you to see me. Look without remorse.” Carter said quietly into the closing space between them as he placed his hands on the mans shoulder, leaning inwards.

Their lips met as Nòlan’s hands soon greeted the soft hem of the Elf’s linen that covered his last scrap of modesty. Slowing undressing him with ease. The Elf’s soft moans filled the room through the soft noises of their kiss. To Carter, the man’s lips alone represented everything he had come to silently adore about the man, his strong lead and strength as well as the devilish curl of his inner teasing and mortal lust. “I knew your lips would taste like all the sun’s light in one.” The man rambled slightly beneath Carter. 

The Elf’s soft moans soon turned desperate as he leant back to bounce lightly on the man’s rough riding trousers. “Nólan, this touch…this feels so-.” The Elf’s voice broke slightly as the prince ran his hands over the milky skin of the beautiful creature above him, taking the pink bud of the elf’s nipple between his fingers, pinching lightly. Nólan grinned as Carter’s movements quickened, “More there, _meleth _, please.” Nólan removed his fingers quickly to the Elf’s dismay. “Patience, _Simbelmynë _, this will please you more.”____

____The Elf threw his head back in a gasp as the man sat up, pulling the Elf in as Carter continued to grind against him. Their chests met, soft skin against the thick, lightly haired skin of the man. Gently, the prince licked at the Elf’s nipple, pausing to lean down and bite lightly as his strong hand slid up the silken skin of Carter’s thigh, cupping where the Elf was sensitive the most as he continued to meet the elf’s movements with his own hips.._ _ _ _

____“I can’t— your touch, I- my prince.” The Elf gasped, throwing his arms over the man’s broad shoulders as his head fell forward, long-hair falling over his face; overcome by reaching his peak from only a small touch. Nólan swiftly comforted the Elf, he could see that his first time reaching peak pleasure tore through him roughly.The man below the elf made a rough growl of pleasure at seeing the elf cry out in his own, eyes clouding over at the beauty before him._ _ _ _

____Gently placing the now dazed Elf beside him, Nólan left to fetch a cloth to clean the Elf up. Due to the Elf’s nature, Nòlan did not want to expose himself fully to Carter yet, swiftly, he finished himself in the seclusion of the other room, back against the rough wood as his hand slid so easily up and down his straining member._ _ _ _

____Nòlan took a moment to understand what had just occurred, breathing heavily from his release before returning with a small basin of water and a cloth. The Elf moaned a light weak sound as the man ran the damp cloth over his sensitive cock as he removed the linen trapping it where it lay spent and soft between his legs, soaking the linen lightly with his silvery release._ _ _ _

____“Such a pretty thing.” Nòlan said lowly as he gave the silken skin of the elf’s cock a small stroke. Nòlan smiled to himself, the new feeling of looking after the Elf in this way bought him more satisfaction than any regal duty would. They slept separate from each other, the seemingly wild moment of lust faded from in-between them. However, Nólan knew that they had become something more than just close at the first touch, however rushed it was. He slept better than he had in moons  
_ _ _ _


	9. Chapter 9: Edoras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men arrive to Edoras, a celebration is had as well as a strange encounter with Trávis. Nólan and Carter's relationship had grown further, however an uninviting by the king of Rohan leaves a coldness in the Golden Hall of Meduseld, along with a intervention by Trávis makes Carter question his desires, and thoughts of the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elo - Wow!
> 
> Feedback greatly appreciated.

The Rohir cheered as the rolling hills revealed the capital of Rohan. Edoras, in its stoic beauty. A beacon of hope, and of a hardy home in a barren, wind-beaten landscape. Nòlan immediately turned to Carter as they began to slow the horses. “You shall stay with me, Carter.” Nólan spoke, “For your safety of course.” He continued.

The Elf had not been alone with the prince since he had felt his touch in the halls of Raegmund. Yet, it felt like it had been years since some kind of vast love was lost. He had longed for it secretly once more, having felt shame for his actings with the prince. 

Carter had never believed the feeling of pleasure could be so strong. The Elf had blamed his actions on the journeys wearies, and the call of the moon leading him to his first slip in purity. However, he wanted to see the prince outside of his duties, see the comfort of his warmth, to see him remove his armour, and undress in front of the Elf as he had done shamelessly before. 

Carter had found he most particularly enjoyed the make of Rohan men, and his actions with the prince in Raegmund only exaggerated this.

They stood unlike the lithe, elegant frames of the Elves. In particular, to Carter, the soft-spoken deep voices of the men, and hair in long waves contrasted beautifully with their broad shoulders and rugged bodies with jagged scars, their stamina in horsemanship, amongst other things… and the dark hair dusting their chests and further beyond.

The bond between the Elf and the prince had grown ever further since they had acted upon their desires, it was beyond words as Carter often found. However, the eyes of another had lingered upon both Carter and Nólan since their encounter in Raegmund.

After the ‘idiotic bravery’, as Nólan had called it, from the Rohir during the encounter with the skin-changer, Trávis had become closer to the prince, gaining higher presence amongst the riders. Carter had not forgotten the man's words, although he enjoyed his company, especially with the young boy in Raegmund. Carter shook himself out of thought, being brought on by the rhythmic movement of his horse. 

The thick grassland soon wasted away to the worn tracks of the walls surrounding Edoras. Carter had never seen such a settlement, its wooden houses were similar of that to Raemung, however, these clung to the cliffs of the great bluff as the Athelas clung to the damp and slippery ground of Middle-earth. The walls of the city soon greeted them, standing ancient and hardy against the wilds it protected those inside from. The hall of Meduseld stood valiant, a shining fortress amongst the houses of city folk.

A great relief had washed over the men, soon turning into strong desperation to return to their families as they funnelled through the swiftly opened gate. The horses too had grown wary, struggling to make the final steps of the journey even in their renowned stamina. 

The wooden doors of the terraced houses bore the greetings of the men, women, and children left behind and the riders numbers soon diminished as they returned to their families. The innermost circle of the aged and experienced riders continued to their gifted home of Meduseld, Nòlan lead to the stables of the hall, Carter close by his side. 

The men swiftly untacked their mounts, however, rushed, the man's hands still were swift and caring. Carter watched as Nòlan easily settled both his own and the elf’s horse in their stables, speaking to them in his mother tongue, low and comforting. 

As soon as Carter began watching the men, he felt they had finished, Nòlan returned to him, clasping a hand to his shoulder he stared into the elf’s eyes. “I must warn you that my father will not welcome you. I cannot change this, he is stubborn in his ways and will not relent.” Nòlan admitted, hand sliding down to softly rest against the elf’s side, a small gesture of their now physical closeness.

The Rohir sighed lightly before he continued. “He keeps the ideas of your kind just as I recently held as well. However do not fear him, I know you will not, but I promise you will not face his wrath if he does decide he does not want you in his realm. Carter only nodded as he felt his often unwelcome prescience by men had melted away with the riders over their journey. 

He would face a deep dislike that he had once known so well once more. The men swiftly used the last of their strength to carry them up the rough stone steps of the great hall, the golden symbols shone like starlight in the afternoon sun. The grand doors were pushed open slowly, showing the riders tiredness. Carter admired the deep red wood of the hall, intricately painted upon its strong walls as well as the swirls of wooden carvings that loomed over him. Carter thought to himself that the hall almost could be a sight worthy of elven praise. 

Carter hesitantly followed the crowd as they herded into the hall, eyes drawing to a figure sitting on a wooden throne centred in the middle of the room. Nòlan pushed gently to the front to meet the figure as he stood from his chair. The figure stepped forwards, his familiar Rohir frame and red velveteen tunic showing his status. 

The man held a fierce look on his face, it soon faded as he clasped a hand on the older man’s shoulder. The king was a large man, he stood bigger than Nòlan with silver-flecked hairs in his collar-length hair and beard, his face showed the sighs of a once handsome young man turned into a rugged king. Carter smiled as he recognised that the man held the same grey-blue eyes as his son.

Nòlan and the man spoke quietly in quick words in their mother tongue before turning to the group. The king bowed his head, “Riders of Rohan, it is good to see my lands are once at ease in your protection.” He said sternly to the men, the men bowed their heads in respect. 

The king let out a breath of consideration, pausing. “However, I see there is one amongst you who does not belong here.” The king's voice suddenly dripped with harshness as he stepped to meet Carter, towering over the already tall frame of the elf. Carter noticed as Nòlan’s face curled into a scowl at his kin as he looked on. “What do you owe to your company in my lands, elf?” The king questioned, he did not let Carter answer.

“I have heard you burden my men and distract my son from his duties?” The man said gruffly, his eyes scanning over the elf’s weapons, his exquisite bow and expertly crafted sword. The king drew back slightly, a large hand pulling at the sleeve of his red tunic as he looked to the floor. The man took his time before his greyed eyes met the elf’s bright green’s. 

“However, I am Theóran, for you, I do not care for your name, however special you may be you are a guest in my domain.” Theóran’s eyebrows furrowed “You may stay in my halls, elf. Though, it would do well to remember you are not welcomed to it with open arms such as my son may have given you.” The king warned.

* * *

Even as the king’s harsh words stuck to Carter throughout the afternoon, the night soon reared its head. Bringing the celebrations of a return of the protectors of the city. The golden hall of Edoras rattled with merriness and shone in even further brilliant light as candles flickered fiercely as ale flowed freely and men indulged in a favourite pastime. 

Carter had been in deep, sober conversation with the prince, over army tactics and hunting as the night drew merrier. Soon enough, the two were dragged away from their deep converse by Trávis and another boisterous young rider. The young man placed a heavy mug of ale in the prince’s hand, as he was met with a raised eyebrow from the gestured he laughed in a drunken manner, only encouraging Nòlan to indulge in the rich drink.

Trávis turned to Carter, a planning grin on his face, nodding towards the prince for approval, he spoke. “I propose a drinking contest. As most of Rohan knows I am a master of ale, of course. No elf could beat me in competition, however… _special _they may be!” He jeered, turning to Carter. Carter laughed lightly at the look of disappointment on the captains face as he only shook his head, choosing to bury his face back in his mug of ale. The Rohir and elf soon stood side by side, respected kegs on the table in front of them and empty mug at hand. “You’re going to regret this Rohir.” Carter laughed, turning towards the man. Trávis only responded with a fierce look of determination.__

“Oh, oh _elo _, I think it may be affecting me Nólan.” The Elf said bewildered, glancing at the surprised look on the face of Nólan before him, an eyebrow cocked in confusion. Trávis lay in a drunken heap on the floor beside the Elf, muttering to himself of horses, women, and ale.__

___The drinking continued into the dark hours of the night, men only eventually retiring to their quarters in drunken stupors, unable to walk properly. Nòlan and Carter had taken to their quarters, Carter taking in the comforting sense of being in the domain of his ward._ _ _

___Carter laughed into the man’s soft kisses as they lay upon the warm furs of the man’s bed as the fire hummed in its hearth nearby, chastising the prince for the stale taste of ale on his lips. Nòlan apologised as he stripped off his fineries, climbing under the linens of the bed. Carter remained dressed, keenly flicking through texts of Rohirrim which lay near the hearth._ _ _

___Time slipped by as the words passed the elf’s eyes, he did not notice that the prince had fallen into a deep sleep and the hearth had dimmed and the room grew cold. Nòlan had used the last of the firewood on ensuring the remaining light fell on the Elf’s face as he worshipped the elf’s beauty in his slight drunkenness, Carter smiled at the thought of the actions of the prince, placing down the texts._ _ _

___The firewood was stored in a storeroom on the other side of the grand hall, Carter did not feel the cold, however, he wished for Nòlan to stay healthy in his own home so quietly slipped out of the room, leaving the prince in his deep slumber._ _ _

_____ _

* * *

The grand hall held a mysterious air under the darkness of night, carvings and grand pillars creating leering shadows which travelled around the room. Carter stood too long admiring the shadows, it was too late as he caught in the line of a figure which had appeared before him. The man’s face was lit by a small lantern which he held upwards, the light on his facial hair creating a wild look about his face. 

Carter blinked in surprise as it appeared to be the man who had appeared lifeless on the floor after foolishly challenging an elf to a drinking contest. “I thought you had…retired for the night, Trávis.” Carter jeered, a fiery gleam in his eyes. "I must tell you something." Trávis said in a rushed tone, placing the lantern on the ground nearby, its light barely reaching to cover the both of them.

“What could you possibly have to tell me at this time that would be worthy at this time?” The man stood sober in front of him, firsts clenched slightly at his sides. “I heard your cries of pleasure in Raegmund.” The man said with a blank face, eyes dark in contrast.

Carter stood shaken by the man's words, he did not know how loud he could have been as he only felt, heard, and saw bliss. The mans faced slowly twisted into a smirk as the Elf’s face turned red, “It would be such a shame if the Lord Elrond were to hear about his ward having relations with a Prince of Rohan.” The man said, a joking tone amongst his voice. 

Carter then knew this was no confrontation, but a tease to get something from him. Carter grinned, he enjoyed his friendly altercations with Trávis. “Ah Trávis, I did not know that having stolen wine from the Elves would make you so dear to my kind? And you would shirk your responsibilities to turn me in?” The man grew closer, having to lear up at the Elf as he stood significantly shorter than Carter.

“And what could an Elf do to stop me?” He whispered fiercely. 

Carter smiled, eyes sparkling in a fiery challenge. He glanced over his shoulder, checking for any unwelcome men before continuing. “An Elf could do many things…to a man…” The elf drawled, leaning down to slowly grip the man's sword in his belt. Carter’s emerald eyes met the man's, he tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow before pulling it out as a smirk grew on his face. 

“First an Elf could surprise him.” As a feeling of overconfidence tore through him, Carter surged forward, Trávis allowed himself to hit an intricately carved pillar of the quiet hall behind him.

The man's sword now rested close to the skin of his neck above the parchment coloured tunic. “A Rohir’s own weapon in the hands of an Elf?” Trávis remarked, raising an eyebrow. “I would have thought our filthy swords would not grace your hand? Would Nólan let you do the same to his blade?” Trávis questioned, “Or, would he be angered? Would he make you look like a village whore, rather than an ancient Elven prince?” Carter shook the man roughly in response, placing the sword ever so close to the skin on his neck. 

“Did you not know how he treats “Oh, I will have you find you would be the one screaming like a maiden if he finds out the words you have said to me now and whilst on this journey. O, great _‘shield-brother’ _. ” Carter’s green eyes were wild, hair having fallen forward past his shoulders, and mouth drew into a rare challenging smile.__

____

____

The man turned his head, lifting it up and down to examine the Elf “I thought you were such a scared pretty little thing…but are you are only as such in the arms of my captain?” Trávis asked. Carter shook his head, “For him, I am more than anything he can wish for. For you… I am everything you wish for, but you cannot have. I see this Trávis, do not object it.”

The sword had reached the base of the man’s shirt collar, resting against it gently. Carter felt the grip of one of the man’s hands low on his hips, Trávis chuckled lowly in his throat. “Then why would you let me do this.” He questioned, wild eyes travelling down Carter's face. 

The elf eyes followed the man's other hand in shock as the lifted the sword from his collar, his tongue slipping it past his lips. Carters mouth hung open slightly in surprised as the Rohir rested the sword on his tongue, his hand on Carter’s hip gripping harder. “You have lost your mind.” Carter said through a small gasp as he pulled the man’s sword from him. “And you do not recognise a blunt sword when you see one it seems” Trávis belittled, before calling the elf a name in his mother tongue of which Carter did not understand. 

The two soon broke apart, unsure of what happened between them, they stared roughly at each other before turning, swiftly returning to their respected quarters. Carter quietly slipped through the door of Nòlan’s quarters, easily avoiding the creaking floors and promptly stripping from his clothing. His quest for firewood was clearly abounded. 

Carter took a moment to admire the sleeping form of the prince, waves of hair falling across his heavily muscled back as he lay against the linen, breath soft in the quietness of the room. 

As the elf covertly moved under the covers, he continued to keep the distance between himself and his ward. Carter struggled to sleep for the few hours of darkness left in the night, he lay, desperately hard thinking over the smirk of Trávis below him, suffering as he was unable to act upon his desire at the thought of the wild look in the rider's eyes as he defiled the elf as Nòlan watched keenly and guarding at their side. 

The desire eventually slipped away from him, the night granting Carter his well needed rest. 


End file.
